Truly Blessed
by Deana
Summary: While hunting a wanted killer, the unthinkable nearly happens. Entry for the May 'Fête des Mousquetaires' contest!


**Truly Blessed**  
A Musketeers story by Deana

Entry for the May 'Fête des Mousquetaires' contest.

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Aramis tried to remain absolutely still, but it was very difficult to do with the end of a pistol digging into the side of his head. Not only did it hurt, but the arm around his throat was cutting off his air and making him see spots in his vision. His body was being forced into an unbalanced position, onto his left leg, which was barely holding his weight thanks to the bullet that was currently residing in it. His hearing was dimmed thanks to the buzzing in his ears, and he could barely hear Athos trying to talk them out of the situation.

It had all began with word that Edgard LaChance had been spotted in Paris. He was known as being a cold-hearted, ruthless murderer, and there was quite a large price on his head. The musketeers were tasked with tracking him down…so track him down they did.

Each of the three musketeers had split up around an old, abandoned building in one of the worst parts of Paris. LaChance had been seen there, but was nowhere to be found, and there wasn't even a single sound in the air until a gunshot suddenly broke the silence. The musketeers didn't know who'd fired the shot…had it been one of them, or their enemy?

Aramis knew, since he was the one suddenly lying on the ground with a bullet in his leg. He quickly scrambled for cover, trying to be as quiet as possible even as his breath came faster from the awful pain. He had to close his eyes for a few seconds and cover his mouth with his handkerchief to muffle the sound. He couldn't call out to his friends, and they didn't call out either, as they knew that they would only draw LaChance to their location.

But LaChance had obviously seen Aramis…and the wounded musketeer quickly reopened his eyes, knowing that the man would close in for the kill. He ignored the wound for the moment, clutching his pistol, ready to fire it if LaChance came within view.

The only problem was, he didn't.

Once more, there was not a single sound until a hand abruptly grabbed him by the back of his collar, yanking him up from the stone wall that Aramis had been hiding behind, filling his wounded leg with agony. The pistol was slapped from his hand and the knife at his back was grabbed and dropped to the ground before Aramis had a chance to react.

"Musketeers!" LaChance shouted, as he pulled Aramis out into the open. "Come out now or your friend dies!"

Dizziness clouded Aramis' senses as he was forced to walk, and the arm that wrapped around his throat increased it. He couldn't stop the gasp that passed his lips when the pistol was painfully jabbed into his head, and he dimly noticed his two friends appear about ten feet in front of him, pointing their guns.

"Let him go, LaChance!" Athos exclaimed.

LaChance laughed. "That's all you can think of to say? Do you really expect me to obey?"

Porthos watched nervously, seeing Aramis' face paling before his eyes as he continued to lose blood from the wound that was causing the growing stain on his left leg.

Athos knew that LaChance killed people without conscience, and he quickly pulled up his arm to point his gun at the sky. "Release him, and you can go; we will not follow!"

LaChance smiled. "France has been hunting me for years; capturing me would make you rich, yet you would let me go to save this one's life? You value him that much?"

"Yes!" Porthos shouted before Athos even had a chance to answer.

"Yes," Athos told him. "Let him go."

LaChance shook his head with an evil grin, and pulled the trigger.

Porthos shouted, "NO!" but the sound of the pistol was more like an explosion rather than a bang…the sparks they saw were from the gunpowder igniting but not propelling a bullet…and the exclamation of pain that passed Aramis' lips was only from the sound going off in his ear.

LaChance's pistol had misfired.

Shocked, he dropped Aramis from his grasp, turned, and ran…but Athos pointed his gun again and fired, his aim true.

LaChance fell, dead before he hit the ground.

Porthos and Athos both ran to Aramis, who was lying on his side with one hand reaching for his leg, and the other one tightly clamped over his right ear. He was moaning from the pain, and didn't react when his friends' hands grabbed him.

"Aramis, Aramis!" Porthos exclaimed, turning him over and pulling him into a sitting position, hand behind his back to hold him upright.

The damage caused to Aramis' ear from the pistol going off right beside it caused the world to spin before his eyes, and his head dropped onto Porthos' shoulder. "Is he dead?" he managed to ask.

"Yes," said Athos, as he inspected the bullet wound. "You were lucky; it went straight through and didn't hit the bone."

"He was lucky that the pistol misfired!" Porthos exclaimed, making Aramis wince from the sound. "Aramis, he shot you point-blank in the head and his pistol misfired! It _misfired_!"

"I know, my friend, I know," Aramis replied. His whole body was shaking from the knowledge, and he could feel Porthos shaking too.

Porthos wrapped his other arm around Aramis and pulled him closer, burying his face in his closest friend's hair. "It misfired," he said again, his voice muffled. "It misfired!"

Aramis closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. The pain suddenly flared in his leg and he stiffened, reopening his eyes to see Athos tying a handkerchief around the bullet wound. He was slightly surprised to see how unsteady Athos' hands were, and after he clumsily finished, he looked up and Aramis could see turmoil in his eyes. He knew how hard Athos always worked to appear stoic, and he knew what it cost him to display such open emotion.

Aramis felt a shudder run through him; dismayed to see his friend so upset, but overjoyed that he was one of the few people who deserved such feelings from Athos. He reached out a shaky hand and Athos grasped it.

Porthos lifted his head from all the motion and watched them both.

"Luck was with you today, my friend," Athos said, his voice rough.

Aramis shook his head slightly, not wanting to make himself dizzy again. "It wasn't luck; I am _blessed_ …in more ways than one."

THE END

LaChance means 'luck' in French: that's irony for you!


End file.
